


Tavern Times

by Vogelimkafig120



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Drunkard - Freeform, F/M, Friendship, Post-Game, Primrose and Ophilia bonding moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 13:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16599041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vogelimkafig120/pseuds/Vogelimkafig120
Summary: Primrose and Ophilia spend their time at the tavern in Clearbrook, talking about what they’ve been up to. That is, until one of the patrons decides to interrupt them.





	Tavern Times

**Author's Note:**

> Yo! Sorry for not posting any content lately. I'll be honest, I've been too lazy to post my fics on AO3. Here’s a Primrose and Ophilia friendship moment! Anyway, please enjoy this fic! ^_^
> 
> Big shoutouts to my friend 彩野さん from Twitter for inspiring me to write this fic!

Primrose and Ophilia were spending their time at the tavern in Clearbrook just to simply chat about what they had been up for the past month. Their respective partners Alfyn and Therion were minding their business somewhere else in the meantime, most likely catching up as well. Primrose was drinking ale whereas Ophilia ordered a glass of mead with apples and honey mixed into it.

“Don’t you think you went a little extreme?” Ophilia commented apprehensively to her friend, taking a small sip of her drink.

“When some unfortunate soul is grabbing your love by their collar, you have to utilize brute force in return.” Primrose defended nonchalantly, recalling the time when a rude visitor mocked Alfyn and tried to hurt him.

Ophilia merely laughed nervously as she looked around her surroundings, smiling softly as she noted that the patrons were minding to themselves peacefully.

“Do tell. How’s Therion been doing since then? Townsfolk still giving him a hard time?” Primrose spoke, crossing her leg over her other as she lightly swung her foot absentmindedly.

“It seems so. Quite often I’ve seen some of them giving him wary glances. He tries to brush it off but I know that it affects him,” the cleric revealed, her expression a bit downcast as she stared at her drink, “Therion thinks too much about my well-being over his very own.”

“I see,” the dancer muttered, eyes gazed at her friend with concern, “but is Lianna growing to accept him?”

“She is, but she sometimes worries that he’ll cast a poor influence onto me. Things haven’t escalated heatedly between the two, which is relieving.” Ophilia explained further, her thoughts pondering to her sister’s stance on Therion.

The dancer merely nodded in response, remembering the first time that Ophilia had brought on the matter between Lianna and Therion. Although Therion had been weaning away from his life as a thief, Lianna was wary and observant of him until Ophilia had to assure her sister that he was a good and thoughtful man.

“Here’s hoping that one day that your sister begins to fully appreciate Therion’s presence. Well, that is if he makes a snide remark at her.” Primrose hoped, albeit chuckling a bit from her last comment.

“I did have to stop him from barking at one of the townsfolk because that person made hurtful comments about him. Luckily one of the Knights Ardante came to intervene.” Ophilia brought up, sighing in the end.

“I’m sorry to hear, truly,” the dancer gave her support to her friend, placing her hand on Ophilia’s shoulder, “just know that you two have my support in your trying times and all.”

Ophilia nodded in acknowledgement, smiling softly at her friend. “Thank you, Primrose.”

“My pleasure. I’m all for moral support.” Primrose replied, a grin on her face, “but to lighten the mood, anything uplifting been going on for you?”

“Well, just my usual service at the church. Though I’ve been assisting the less fortunate by providing them with food, water, books, and shelter. The children seem to enjoy spending time with me.” the cleric said, her thoughts wandering to when she brought many smiles to the children in her care.

“That’s heartfelt of you to say, Ophilia. Then again, your personality is a big giveaway so it’s no surprise.” Primrose commented humorously, taking a sip of her ale.

The cleric decided to ask her friend the same thing, curious if the dancer had made any contributions lately. “What about yourself? Pray do tell, Primrose.”

“Dancing is still my passion so sometimes I’ll put up a show in the night as a way to earn some leaves and the praise of many. At least the patrons act to their best behavior unlike those back in Sunshade. But aside from that, I want to open my own dance school someday.” the dancer revealed, much to Ophilia’s amazement.

“Oh, that’s wonderful to hear! I’m sure that it’ll come to fruition one day. Don’t doubt yourself on that.” Ophilia stated earnestly.

“Of course, my dear Ophilia. Truly, I want to be a guidance to children who would one day want to become dancers of their own, whether they’re skillful or not. My philosophy is that anyone can make something out of themselves.” Primrose replied adamantly.

However, before the two could converse further, one of the patrons made their way to Ophilia and Primrose’s table, their breath wafted with the stench of alcohol and eyes set with determination to woo the women in their sight.

“Why hello to ya beautiful gals,” the drunkard greeted cockily as he stood in front of the women’s table, “fancy meetin’ ya here.”

Awkwardly, Primrose and Ophilia simply stared at each other in confusion, though they tried to act as civil and calm as possible to their untimely guest, even though the former resisted the urge to demand the man to leave them be or else.

“H-hello to you, stranger. Do you need something?” Ophilia waved at the drunkard lightly, sniffing the hint of alcohol from him.

“Ya see, I was just enjoyin’ myself in this fine ol’ tavern and I noticed that the both of ya are without anyone to keep ya company. Figured that I’d do my part for ya two.” the drunkard revealed as he took a swig of his drink, wiping his mouth afterwards.

Internally, Primrose knew that this person was spelling trouble for herself and Ophilia. Dealing with drunkards and men who made flattering remarks to win her heart was her pastime. Most of the time, those who were defiant to back down simply met with Primrose decking them to the floor, though Helgenish had met a different fate.

“Although we’re flattered to hear your concerns. We’re making by just fine. Surely one of your companions is worried about you.” the dancer insisted to their guest, though she noticed that his expression became a tad irritated, which was no surprise.

“Hey, I’m just tryin’ to be a nice fellow to ya gals. No women could resist me charms.” the drunkard responded as he began to seethe in annoyance, spilling a bit of his drink in the process.

“There’s a first time for everything, dear. Sorry to burst your confidence.” Primrose apologized sarcastically, much to Ophilia’s worry.

“In regards to my friend, we simply ask you that we’re doing fine by ourselves. There’s no need for us to be chaperoned.” Ophilia stated with a smile.

The drunkard spilled his drink on the wooden floor as he slammed his hands on the table, his eyes glaring at the two. His actions had caught the attention of the patrons but none of them had made any attempt to intervene. Primrose was staring at the drunkard, entirely unamused at his actions. Ophilia felt that the situation was escalating too far.

“Listen here, sweetheart. No amount of bollocks is gonna keep me away from the prize. I will get what I came for, and I will show ya two a good time. What do ya say?” the drunkard confessed, much to the disgust of the two women.

“I’ve said something quite similar to someone I knew before. Excuse my callousness but,” Primrose started as she cleared her throat, “go show yourself a good time instead.”

That did it to the drunkard as he fumed in rage, stomping his foot on the floor. He then motioned himself towards Ophilia’s direction, much to the latter’s shock. 

“In that case, I guess I’ll show your friend a goo—” however, before Primrose could step in, the drunkard felt a light tap on his shoulder, being greeted to a man wearing a scarf around his neck –”and who the hell are ya?”

Before the drunkard could react even further, the man wearing a scarf brought his hand to the drunken patron’s head and proceeded to bring it down on the table, earning a hard and painful sound as a result. The unfortunate patron had succumbed to unconsciousness as he laid down on the floor, the impact evident on his forehead.

“’No’ is a word that’s difficult for certain individuals to grasp on apparently. Being drunk gives you no excuse act brazenly. Even I have a bit of self-control in that state.” Therion harshly remarked as the bartender tended to the drunkard.

“Can’t really blame ya that much, Therion,” Alfyn remarked as he made his way to his companion’s side, staring at the knocked-out drunkard before facing the bartender, “can you handle him, my good sir?”

“Yes. I’ll be sure that he’s dealt with,” the bartender assured as he turned to Primrose and Ophilia’s direction, “truly sorry for him making you two uncomfortable.”

Once the bartender had left with the unruly patron, Therion and Alfyn proceeded to sit by their respective partners.

“We could’ve handled him just fine, you know.” Primrose mentioned, letting out a sigh as Alfyn wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, I guess.” the thief jested, feeling Ophilia placing her hands on his own.

“May the Sacred Flame shine forth in his ill-ridden soul. One day he’ll learn the error of his ways.” Ophilia commented as she played with Therion’s fingers.

“Very sorry to interrupt your girl talk, though,” Alfyn apologized sheepishly as he retreated his arm away from Primrose’s frame, “if ya want us gone for a bit, then it’s fine.”

Primrose simply nodded her head in a negative fashion, this time she encircled her arm around his waist, settling her head on his shoulder blade.

“Nonsense, Alfyn. We don’t mind your company along with Therion’s.” the dancer kindly insisted, nuzzling her cheek on her love’s shoulder.

“S-shucks. You’re pretty affectionate, Prim.” the apothecary noted, earning him a playful glare from his love, much to the amusement of Therion and Ophilia.

“Thanks again, Therion.” the cleric said to her love, the latter merely nodding as if it was nothing to be praised about.

“It’s nothing, really. Just another, as Cyrus puts it, a miscreant to deal with, is all,” Therion replied before setting his sights on Ophilia’s mead, smirking afterward, “now don’t mind if I do.”


End file.
